Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Costa Rica

I'm not a planner. I tell myself it's because I'm not good at it, but it's really because I plain don't like it and it gives me anxiety. It drives Nic crazy--because even when I do make plans, I always fail to tell him in a timely manner. You know, so he can make plans based on the sort-of plans in my head. It gets even trickier when he asks for details. Stuff like, "When is this 20-mile bike ride?" Me: "Um, Saturday?" He's a patient man.

Earlier this year, Alissa called and told me about a surf camp in Costa Rica she was thinking of going to as a way to get some perspective in this tricky balancing game we play of being moms, wives, friends, daughters, and also, you know, humans. I would have never planned anything like this on my own, but when Alissa said she was going, I told her I was too. And as far as I was concerned, I had my plans. I was going to Costa Rica with Alissa in February. Where in Costa Rica? (My doctor was the first to ask me this specific question.) Um, you know, Costa Rica. In February. With Alissa. Why are you giving me the third degree?!?

And bless the kind, kind hearts of our patient husbands. All I had to do was tell Nic that I was going and give Jon my credit card number to book my ticket. Done and done. I'll just gloss over the part where we arrived in San Jose and had a little confusion with my connecting flight to where we would be staying in Malpais. In hindsight, we should have maybe figured out how to make international calls on our phones before we were out of the country, but remember the whole "I'm a terrible planner" thing? So we spent a little extra time in the San Jose airport and got the next connecting flight. 

See? It all works out eventually. We made it on our plane and to our destination. 

And can I tell you about our destination? Malpais (yes, I did eventually learn the name of where we were staying) is magical. Our little spot on the beach was magical.

You're looking at my favorite spot of our whole adventure: the porch of our cabana. I could sip Coke Light and nibble on chocolate here for eternity. 

Oh, but the surf camp that we came for! Right. We were maybe not the best students. Our instructor, Helen, bless her heart, was amazing. I really did give it my best effort for the first few hours of the first two days. And guess what? I'm a terrible surfer. Like, I am really not good at it. I could barely get up on the board for a few seconds in the white water. My working theory is that being three months pregnant was the problem. It's easier to think that than admit that I was just really, really bad.

 Alissa, however, killed it.

 For a more accurate picture of our surf lessons, refer to these pictures. For me, it was perfection.

We found that we were maybe better suited for boogie boarding.

Also included in this CliffNotes version of our trip is practicing my hermit crab whistling skills, a zip line tour through the canopy, morning yoga on the beach, a Costa Rican rodeo, awards for our awesomeness, and my first baby belly shot.


There really is so much more. But if I could only share one thing from our trip, it would be this picture:

This sums up what we found in Costa Rica. And for this pair of moms, it was life changing.

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